Fate: I Just Want to Die and Sit on the Throne of Heroes-Chapter 69: Zeus, the Wanderer of the Void

Chapter 69: Zeus, the Wanderer of the Void
Rowe’s consciousness drifted far from everything, carried along the current beyond the world.
He knew, with a rare and complete clarity, that he was utterly dead.
His body had burned itself out.
His soul had been pushed to its absolute limit, layer after layer peeled away until only the most essential core remained. That last, concentrated fragment of “Rowe” was now being drawn toward the outside of the world, toward the Throne of Heroes.
To die under the curse of the gods.
To die for stealing wisdom from the heavens.
To die after being carried off by the primordial Mother Goddess.
Taken separately, any one of these would have been enough to qualify him for the Throne. Taken together, they formed a triple overlay that even the world could not ignore.
Right now, Rowe was full of quiet confidence and expectation.
As his consciousness floated upward, ripples suddenly appeared in the pitch black “vision” around him.
A clear, familiar cry rang out.
“Aaaaaaa.”
The ripples shattered the darkness like thin glass.
His consciousness, which had been drifting toward the primal sky, suddenly plunged downward as if something had grabbed his ankle and yanked him out of orbit.
What in the world is that?
Do not come any closer.
Rowe’s eyes flew open like a man jolted awake from a nightmare.
His face was damp with sweat. All of it was fear.
In front of him, Tiamat was bent over, looking down at him.
Her waterfall like hair fell around her face like a curtain. Behind it, her delicate features were lit with unguarded joy.
That is wonderful.
Her gaze conveyed it clearly.
You are still alive. That means I am still alive.
Rowe, who instantly understood everything, was silent.
Wonderful? Wonderful my foot.
Why did you have to save me when everything was finally going right?
Just let me die in peace.
He really wanted to say it out loud.
But looking at the pure happiness on the goddess’s face, he swallowed the words.
More importantly, he could feel it.
The curse that had been gnawing at his body had vanished without a trace.
The weakness that had weighed down his limbs was gone as well.
What replaced it was a sensation he had not felt for a very long time.
New life.
It was not the same strained, overlapping state he had been in before.
His condition was different now.
In other words, if he died here, in this moment, there was a high chance he would not receive the power he should.
From the very beginning, he had been clear.
He needed his true self to ascend to the Throne.
Not some copy. Not some abstract “template” of his deeds.
The Rowe who died had to be the Rowe who had personally accomplished those feats.
Even if he knew Tiamat would never harm him, Rowe was meticulous whenever it mattered.
Being casually swatted to death by the primordial Mother Goddess here would not satisfy the conditions for reaching the Throne.
And this place was outside the world.
The three causes of death he had accumulated before were all born within the world. They were part of its history, part of its record.
If he provoked Tiamat in Imaginary Number Space and died here, it would have nothing to do with the world’s narrative.
It could not be engraved onto the Throne.
Is something wrong?
Seeing Rowe fall silent after waking, Tiamat tilted her head slightly.
She leaned in closer. Her towering body swayed in his vision, her crossed legs extended in a long, scaled arc, slender and full at once, a striking silhouette against the surrounding void.
Of course, the only one here to appreciate the view was Rowe.
He glanced to the side and exhaled.
“It is nothing.”
Then he saw Tiamat’s expression change.
Her star bright eyes narrowed a little. Her glossy vermilion lips curved.
That single smile on her delicate face was as beautiful as the first light that split the chaotic firmament at the beginning of the world.
It is good that you are alright.
That was what she meant.
Rowe did not need to die.
And as long as she could still feel that he was here, she herself could feel “alive.”
Tiamat was truly relieved.
Rowe stayed quiet for a moment.
Then, accepting the reality, he smiled as well.
He needed to adjust to this new state as quickly as possible.
From the instant he woke, he already understood what Tiamat had done.
She had taken her own power and used it to re nurture his body and spirit.
She had manifested herself in the primordial sea and let him truly merge with the authority of Ea, the god who had created heaven and earth, the authority contained in the Sword of Rupture.
Before, Rowe had already been the Sword of Rupture.
But the sword was a container.
A vessel that held power.
Rowe had been like that as well, a human vessel that had been made to house divine authority.
Now, he was not just the vessel.
His previous state had been closer to Gilgamesh, the human king bearing the treasury and techniques of the gods.
His current state was more like Enkidu, a being whose existence was one with its authority.
His new form was fundamentally different.
Naturally, it would take time to adapt.
Rowe felt very clearly that he had to master it as fast as possible.
Only by fully controlling his power could he avoid wasting the best chance at the most critical moment.
Yes, even though his grand “die properly and ascend” plan had collapsed again, Rowe did not feel like giving up.
As someone who had once reached the Root, even if he could no longer wield that power, he refused to concede when it came to sheer stubbornness.
In that at least, he could claim to be second to none.
“Aaaaa.”
Tiamat raised one finger and gently stroked his hair.
Rowe stiffened, then slowly relaxed and closed his eyes halfway.
She was helping him.
She guided the newly born power within him, untangled the lines of his transformed spirit, and smoothed his transition into this new state.
Rowe, are you alright?
“I am. Thank you.”
You are my companion.
You are also my first and last child, nurtured by my own hands.
Will you stay with me forever?
Tiamat cherished the sensation of being alive.
She cherished Rowe, who brought her that sensation in this unending silence.
Could he stay?
Of course not.
Rowe could not remain drifting in Imaginary Number Space forever.
He had to return to the surface world.
He had to reach the Throne and claim what was his by right.
He opened his mouth to answer, but before he could speak, he saw Tiamat suddenly lift her head.
The softness vanished from her eyes. The pink, star speckled irises sharpened, and her water like hair flared out around her like a spreading tide.
Her fingers, wrapped in dragon scales, lengthened into long, narrow claws.
Half of her form warped in an instant.
The primordial sea goddess turned half dragon.
Tiamat’s draconic shape was not just a battle form.
It was her mode of evolving all things.
It was the stance she took when she was fully prepared, fully alert.
The posture of a primordial god staring down an enemy.
Void intrusion detected.
Hostile intent confirmed.
Target classification: planetary class conceptual lifeform.
A cold, mechanical voice echoed through Imaginary Number Space.
Just like Tiamat herself, the existence that voice belonged to could forcibly twist and impose “existence” on a place defined as nothing.
That was why Rowe could hear a sound that should have been infinitely distant.
That was why he could see the light that burst into being at the very edge of his vision.
Brilliant gold split the depthless darkness, like a spear of light driven into a bottomless sea.
Upon that light, a vast silhouette seemed to hover.
The body was clad in layered steel, laced with gold and silver.
Its outline resembled an immense, archaic deity wearing helm and armor.
It possessed only one head, yet that single head conveyed an immeasurable grandeur that seemed to crowd the entire void.
Cold streams of light flickered in its eyes.
Within those eyes, information surged and scrolled without end.
It was the god of the Wandering Void.
The god of all gods in the Greek sphere.
Zeus’s main body.
Rowe knew its name almost instantly.
Part of that came from fragments of memory left over from before his transmigration.
The rest came from the natural authority of his current existence, which interpreted the true name and nature of any god who stood before him.
The omnipotent god who had once gathered the power of the Twelve Olympian Gods.
The one who had shaken the Star Hunter itself.
The one who had been crushed in defeat, yet managed to preserve shattered scraps of his being and throw them into the void.
Now that remnant wandered between worlds.
Damaged, but still terrifyingly strong.
Thunder brewed deep in its eyes.
Around its body, an aura of total destruction formed and spread.
It regarded Tiamat with undisguised hostility.
At the same time, the half dragon Primordial Mother Goddess bared her fangs and answered that hostility with a roar.
Her voice no longer rang clear and gentle.
It carried the full might of the Mother of Chaos who had once evolved all things.
Tiamat’s killing intent ignited.
Rowe’s gaze dropped for a moment, drawn to the light beneath Zeus.
He could not see the exact landscape, but he could feel it.
That light was linked to the surface world.
Its glow marked the region inside the world that corresponded to Zeus’s anchoring point.
He could not reach the Throne just now.
However, if he stepped into the world under that light and carved a legend into it, things would be very different.
Rowe’s heart moved.
A new path had appeared in front of him.
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